


When The Clock Strikes 12

by kelios



Series: Moments [10]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mardi Gras, jensen's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 20:25:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17967467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelios/pseuds/kelios
Summary: Jared owes Jensen an apology, but can he make it in time?





	When The Clock Strikes 12

Jared ends the call, angry with Jensen, with himself--just _angry_. He knows it's not fair, _knows_ that part of the reason Jensen is so anxious to pursue a career after _Supernatural_ is so that Jared can leave the spotlight if he wants to. Jared loves him for that, for stepping outside of every comfort zone he has and taking on this added burden, this added responsibilty for Jared’s well-being. He and Jensen had discussed this event the way they always do, and Jensen had asked him to come to New Orleans for the parade, at least. They'd made all the plans, talked to the organizers…and then Gen and PR had thrown a collective fit. Even so, Jensen had been willing to risk it, but Jared had said no. Better not to rock the boat, and Jensen had agreed in the end, seemingly grateful for something to go easy for once.

Instead, they'd gone to Whistler for a luxurious weekend alone rather than going back to Austin, and they'd made sure that everyone knew exactly where they were and what they were up to. Steve had gone back to Vancouver Saturday night, and they'd had an amazing day and a half together just being them. It had been perfect, a celebration of _them_ , fourteen years of love and devotion.

That doesn't make this hurt any less. He’d talked a good game, pushed aside his wants, his needs, but this continued charade is tearing him apart. 

_Nobody said this was easy,_ he reminds himself. _No one ever said it would be so hard,_ his brain not so helpfully supplies, and Jared shakes his head. He'd get through this. _They'd_ get through this. But first he owes Jensen an apology. He turns off his phone and closes his eyes, but sleep is a long time coming. 

The next morning, Jared’s phone stays off. It’s torture...he freely admits to being a bit of a junkie when it comes to news and social media. But he wants to do this right, and he knows that if he talks to Jensen everything will come spilling out. So he endures. 

They have a light day scheduled for filming, interior shots with Sam and Jack. Jared pulls Alex aside, tells him that he needs everything to go smoothly and promises no pranks. They finish in near record time with great coverage, Alex stepping up and being exactly what Jared needs. The director congratulates them both at the end of the day, and Clif is driving him toward the airport before rush hour traffic gets too snarled. 

The flight is too long. Jared tries to read but he can’t concentrate, tries to focus on his next script but Sam’s headspace, similar as it is to his own right now, eludes him. Music helps for an hour or so, but then he’s back to _thinking_ again, wondering if he’s doing the right thing. He doesn’t wonder if Jensen will be happy to see him because he knows the answer to that one, but there is still another hour of the flight and time is getting short. 

Customs is walk through at this time of night, even with Mardi Gras in full swing, for which Jared is immensely grateful. There’s a car waiting for him as soon as he clears the gates because Jared’s travel agent is awesome, and apparently she’d explained to the driver it was an emergency because he tears out for the hotel almost before Jared gets his door closed. 

Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes until midnight and Jensen’s birthday is over and Jared is stuck in traffic a five minute drive from the hotel. He frets, the driver eyeing him in the rearview mirror, and finally he can’t sit still another minute. “Head to the hotel,” he instructs, handing over a couple of bills from his wallet as a tip. “You can leave my bag at the desk.” There’s nothing in the bag that he can’t replace if the driver is less than honest, a couple of pairs of jeans and a few t-shirts, extra underwear because thanks to Jensen’s loose lips at that con he will never ever forget _that_ again. Seeing Jensen before midnight, while it’s still his birthday, is worth the risk a hundred times over. 

Then he’s out the door and headed for the hotel, long legs eating up the distance as he mutters _excusemepardonmepardonmeexcuseme_ over and over through the crowd. A shocked face or two, a surprised _Jared?_ from his left, but he ignores them because there’s no time left and he _needs_ to make this okay. 

Lobby stairs--ten minutes. Elevator--eight minutes. Two minutes to figure out which way to turn from the damn map that he can barely concentrate on--six minutes, and then he’s running down the hallway and skidding to a stop outside the number Jensen had given him weeks ago. He tells himself his hand is shaking from adrenaline when he raises it to knock--three minutes left, and then Jensen is opening the door, eyes widening with surprise. 

“Jared?” but there’s no time and Jared’s hand wraps itself in Jensen’s shirt, not shaking anymore because he _knows_ this, better than anything, and he hauls Jensen forward into a kiss without a single goddamn care in the world about anyone else who might see. He doesn’t let go until his phone chimes midnight, and Jensen sags against him, confused but with his heart in his eyes. 

“Happy birthday, Jensen.”


End file.
